


Of Hookers and Hieroglyphs

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Bondage, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-31
Updated: 2008-08-31
Packaged: 2019-02-02 08:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12723105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Jack doesn't do relationships. Is Daniel prepared to meet him on his own terms?





	Of Hookers and Hieroglyphs

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

O'Neill scrubbed his hand over his stubbled face as he headed towards his car. Jeez, he was tired. It was the end of another long night - in fact, it was almost morning - and all he wanted to do was get home and fall into bed - alone, again. This job used to mean so much to him, but the deaths of his wife and son had changed all that. He knew he was becoming bitter and cynical, but was unable to muster up the energy to care.

"Hello? Is there somebody out there?"

The voice was faintly slurred - someone obviously drunk or stoned. Jack sighed. Couldn't he ever get a break? The voice seemed to have come from inside the abandoned warehouse next to the one which had been used for the rave that night, from which the last stragglers were making their way home - or alternatively hanging around, too strung-out to remember where home was. He picked his way through the discarded water bottles and other detritus of the night and made his way into the warehouse. 

He squinted into the gloom and was able to make out someone sitting on the floor next to a piece of scaffolding. He switched on his torch and shone it on the figure...

... and what he saw was his every wet dream come true.

"What the fuck?"

A young man was sitting there, bound to a piece of scaffolding. He was pale and slim, yet muscular. He wore a black leather collar that had been used to chain him to one of the rails via a loop in its back. His arms were pulled behind him and bound behind a pole of the scaffolding using leather manacles. His torso was naked other than for a black leather strap that criss-crossed its way down front and back. His legs were encased in tight black leather pants which... holy fuck... had cut out groin and butt sections, leaving everything on display.

Jack's breathing became harsh as he took in the vision in front of him. He couldn't take his eyes off that body. Eventually, he became aware that the man was squirming slightly under his scrutiny and managed to drag his eyes upwards to the head attached to the body... and he was struck again. Worried, though vague, blue eyes, made huge by kohl, stared at him from a face that was quite as beautiful as the body. Full lips, high cheekbones, expressive eyebrows, and a mane of soft, shoulder-length fair hair...

... Worried? He caught himself. Why should the man look worried? He noticed now that the man was fruitlessly trying to edge away from him, and he realized what he must look like. Embarrassed at being caught out, he was more gruff than he intended to be.

"Don't fret - you're safe from me. I don't do hookers. What happened? Client not happy? Piss your pimp off?"

"Not... not..."

He approached to get the man out of his bonds, and was surprised when the man started shaking his head, muttering, "No..." and trying to jerk away, succeeding only in knocking his head against the pole to which he was bound.

"What the...? Careful, you idiot. You'll get yourself concussed." Bending over the shaking man, Jack realized what had spooked him - the man's eyes were focussing on his shoulder holster, previously concealed under his coat. He dug his badge out of his pocket to reassure him. "Relax, bud - I'm a cop. Detective Jack O'Neill. I'm not going to hurt you."

Jack wasn't really sure if the man had understood him - he was clearly messed up by whatever drugs he had taken. Jack sighed and reached out to tackle the man's bonds. In doing so, he came into contact with the man's skin and hissed - he was ice cold. Now that the first shock of the man's appearance had passed, O'Neill was able to observe him more clearly. He was nearly blue with cold - not surprising considering what he was wearing and the freezing air penetrating the place from outside. More worryingly, despite the chill, he was barely shivering, and his breaths were shallow and uneven - both very bad signs. How long had he been trapped in there? 

"Please..." the man said, "hurts." His voice was slurring even more, the look in his eyes confused. 

Fuck. The man wasn't drunk or drugged, he was hypothermic. Whoever had tied him up and left him there had nearly killed him. 

"Okay, let's get you out of these bindings, then."

The only evidence that the man's captor was not a complete sadist was that all the bonds were sealed by buckles rather than locks, so it took only a moment to set him free. The minute the man's arms were released they went to his groin in a futile effort to cover himself. Whatever his state of confusion, the man was clearly humiliated.

"Alright, then. Here, take my coat - you need to try to warm up, and I guess you probably don't want to go outside in that getup either." So saying, Jack took off his long coat and wrapped it around the almost naked man. After a moment, he took off his scarf and wrapped that around him as well. "What's your name?"

"D... Daniel."

"Hi, Daniel. I'm going to take you to hospital now. Wait here while I get the car. I don't want you outside for longer than you have to be."

"But..."

"No, don't try to talk anymore. You need to conserve your energy, keep in all the heat you can."

Jack called it in on the way so that hospital staff were ready to take care of Daniel. A uniformed cop could deal with the rest. Jack's part in the matter was over. He was done for the night.

***

A naked, pale-skinned young man knelt at his feet. Long, fair hair fell about his face. He licked his full lips and opened his mouth, ready to take in O'Neill's straining dick. His tongue reached out to lap at the moisture already leaking from its head. 

Bzzzzz Bzzzz

O'Neill brushed off the strange sound as he watched his cock start to penetrate that luscious mouth...

Bzzzzz Bzzzzz

Dammit! The dream fled as the insistent buzzing of his alarm dragged him to wakefulness.

***

"O'Neill - there is a person in the lobby who wishes to see you. He claims to have some property belonging to you." The voice of the huge African man, his English always so formal, penetrated O'Neill's preoccupation with the files in front of him.

"I'm busy, Teal'c. Tell him to leave it at the front desk."

"This I have already told him, but he refused. He wishes to see you in person."

Jack sighed. The usual Monday morning grumpiness was combining nicely with exhaustion from the raid on Friday to put him in a foul mood. Sometimes, he didn't know why they bothered - it never seemed to make any difference. As fast as the narcotics department could bust up any cartel, three more sprang up to take its place.

"Dammit. Alright, he can come up."

***

"Detective O'Neill?" The hesitant voice came a few minutes later.

O'Neill looked up. His heart started pounding and his dick twitching. The man was instantly recognizable, despite the fact that he was dressed somewhat differently from on their previous encounter. A plaid shirt and shapeless beige pants now hid that glorious body, and a pair of glasses disguised the beautiful blue eyes. He now looked like... well... 'geek' was the word that came to mind. 

"That's me," replied O'Neill. "What do you want?"

"Um... well... my name's Daniel."

"I know who you are. What do you want?" he repeated. Guilt at his dreams about this guy and his current unmistakeable reaction was making Jack unnecessarily short with him.

"Er... you... you left your coat with me. I wanted to give it back to you," said Daniel, a little unnerved by O'Neill's hostility.

"And you couldn't leave it at the front desk why?" Jack snarked.

"I wanted to thank you in person for saving my life last Friday." 

"No thanks necessary. Just doing my job. Thanks for returning the coat," Jack managed with at least a touch of civility before continuing, "Now if there's nothing more, I have a lot of work to do." And with that, he began ostentatiously shuffling papers.

But still Daniel stood there, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot until O'Neill looked up at him again. "I was wondering if you wanted to meet up some time," he blurted.

"Like I told you the other night, I don't do hookers. Not even if you're offering me a freebie."

Daniel was flabbergasted. Colour flooded his cheeks as he said, "Hook... hooker? I'm not... what makes you think I'm...?"

"Well, put it this way: the only *other* reason to be dressed in that getup would be if you were in an S&M club. I didn't see any club nearby. Did you?" 

"You missed a third reason, DETECTIVE," began Daniel furiously, "I BEGAN the evening wearing something like this," he said, gesturing vaguely at his current shapeless clothes. "Do I look to you like the sort of person who goes out dressed in that kind of gear? Scratch that - few people do. But I don't. Wear that getup, I mean. And I'm not a prostitute. My name is Professor Daniel Jackson. I have a doctorate in archaeology from Oxford, England, and another in anthropology from Harvard, and am currently a professor at the University of Pennsylvania researching ancient written languages. You can Google me if you want."

Jack raised an eyebrow and eyed him up and down. Admittedly, geek and hooker were not a natural combination. And on closer observation, now that Daniel was illuminated by daylight rather than torchlight, he could see that he was rather older than customary for the market - in his twenties rather than his teens. Not that that would hinder a beauty like this in any way. He realised his thoughts were drifting again, and tried to pull himself back to the matter in hand. "Two doctorates, huh? I think you're a little young for that boast to be convincing. You should have stuck with claiming one."

"Like I said, look me up if you want to check. I'm twenty-eight years old. I'm young - not stupid." 

Jack's eyebrows did their upward migration again. Twenty-eight? So he was somewhat older than his estimate. Only twelve years younger than him, which took him out of the dirty old man category. Once again, his thoughts had wandered off the point. "Well then, how did you migrate from that outfit to the hooker-gear, complete with bondage?"

"How do you think? Obviously, they stripped me and dressed me up like that."

"'They'? 'They' who?" asked Jack ominously. 

Suddenly, Daniel looked like a deer trapped in headlights. "No-one," he replied quickly. "I mean I didn't see who they were." 

Daniel did not want to get into this. He had not come here to discuss it. The last thing he wanted to do was to relive the humiliation of that night, the jeering of the frat boys as they caught him at his rooms in the University, made him up like a slut, bundled him in a car and left him trapped near the aftermath of the party, the words 'fag' and 'queer' - and worse - echoing in his ears.

"You didn't see who tied you up and left you to freeze in an abandoned warehouse?"

"It was just a prank," Daniel hedged.

"A prank? Doesn't strike me as very funny. You could have been raped. You could have died." Studying an increasingly uncomfortable Daniel, suspicion quickly bloomed to certainty in Jack's mind. "Was this a hate crime?" he asked quietly

"God, no!" Daniel gasped. He couldn't go down this road. "They didn't mean any harm." The students knew that they had gone way too far. They had got the shock of their lives when they had returned to set him free shortly after Jack had rescued him, only to find him gone. They had come to visit him and apologized. It wasn't enough - it was a long way from being enough - but he had had to at least outwardly accept their apologies. At the moment, the boys were contrite, but queer-bashing remained a favourite sport... and there were more ways than one to hurt him; an attack on his reputation by these wealthy, well-connected kids could be equally harmful - a gay professor who did not have tenure was an awfully easy target. All it took was a whisper of indecent behaviour - he'd seen it happen before. At least none of them had been his students, thank God. He did not think he would have been able to cope with that.

"No?" Jack drawled. "So care to tell me the names of these 'harmless' people?" He pulled out a pad of paper.

"I didn't recognize them." Daniel lied badly. "Anyway, they won't do it again. They apologized." 

"Did they, now? Astonishing. So all these people you don't know came to apologize to you?"

"Yes... I mean, no." Daniel wasn't good at this sort of thing. "Please. I don't want to talk about it." He was squirming with embarrassment at Jack's questions. He felt foolish. He had seized on the excuse of returning O'Neill's coat to come to see him. He had needed to see this tall, lean, chocolate-eyed man when he wasn't being rescued from hypothermia... or worse. But it seemed the need had not been mutual. O'Neill was interested only in the incident. Daniel was crushed. Time to gather what little dignity he could muster and get the hell out of Dodge. He started backing towards the door. "Well, it was nice to see you again..."

Jack put the notepad down. He could see that if he continued to apply pressure to Daniel, he would leave. And he didn't want him to leave. He hadn't had a good fuck for ages, and Daniel's body had been haunting his dreams. He leisurely watched the man in front of him - he wanted to make him squirm with desire instead of embarrassment. Mind made up, he said, "My place or yours?"

"What?" Daniel, caught off balance again, tried to work out where in the conversation Jack was. "Oh - don't you want to... I thought we could meet for drinks at..."

"I don't do drinks. My place or yours?"

"Um..." Daniel was a bit disconcerted. He wanted sex with Jack, certainly, but he had kind of hoped this would follow a minimum of at least one date - an evening of flirting and perhaps getting to know each other a little better. Looking at Jack's determined expression, though, he could tell that wasn't going to happen. He'd never had sex without any kind of connection before. Could he do it? The question was pointless. Already, he knew he was going to. He felt completely caught up in the force of Jack's charisma, his usually strong will dissolving in the fierce sexual attraction. "Yours," he whispered.

"Right. See you there at seven." Jack scribbled his address and phone number quickly on a piece of paper and handed it to Daniel, who turned and left his office... still carrying Jack's coat.

***

Jack's doorbell rang at 7.15. Jack didn't like tardiness, and tried to school his annoyance as he went to open the door. His irritation disappeared instantly on seeing his visitor, though. Daniel looked stunning in jeans and a soft, pale grey v-necked sweater, which emphasized the blue of his eyes, undisguised by the glasses this time, and Jack eyed him greedily as he stood back to allow him to enter. His fingers had been itching all day to touch Daniel, his thoughts continually becoming distracted by images of his soft skin and satiny hair.

"I'm sorry. I had to finish marking some papers. I couldn't leave them..." began Daniel.

"Whatever. Doesn't matter," Jack lied. "Can I get you a beer?" He inclined his head towards the open bottle already on the coffee table. 

Daniel wasn't a big fan of beer, but nodded anyway - he always tried to be a polite guest. 

Returning with a second bottle from the fridge, Jack thrust it into Daniel's hand. "Here you go."

Daniel had barely had time to have a couple of sips before Jack was removing the bottle from his hand, his lips quickly replacing the bottle at his mouth, his tongue delving in at the opportunity provided by Daniel's surprised "Oh." Before Daniel could gather his wits, he was being herded gently further back into Jack's loft apartment. 

Had he agreed to this? Daniel wasn't sure, couldn't quite remember what had been said. O'Neill had certainly refused to go on a date, but that didn't mean they couldn't chat over a few beers at Jack's place. Or did it? Jack's lips were removing his inability to focus, never releasing him, possessing his mouth hungrily. Jack's hands travelled incessantly, demandingly, over him, eventually settling on his ass, pulling Daniel's groin towards him to rub against his own. Both men groaned. 

Forward momentum slowed a bit as Jack lost his concentration, enraptured with the feel of Daniel's hard dick against his own - but there was too much clothing between them, and Jack was on a mission to get them to the bedroom before it all came off. So he started moving Daniel backwards again until, finally, they reached his goal. Once there, he tore himself away from Daniel's lips and stepped backwards from him. He moved to the door and turned down the dimmer switch on the lights until the room was lit only by the faintest glow. Then he turned round to face Daniel again.

"Strip," was the command.

Daniel's eyes fluttered open. "I... don't you want to help me?" he asked, slightly flustered.

"No. Take your clothes off," was the rejoinder.

Hesitantly, Daniel's hands moved to the bottom of his sweater and he started to lift it off over his head. He half expected Jack to stop him, ask him for a slow striptease, but it seemed that Jack was perfectly content simply for him to remove his clothes in an ordinary fashion. So he quickly removed his shoes and socks, and unbuckled the belt of his jeans. Buttons and zip fastenings gave way to his slightly shaking hands, and he thrust his jeans down together with his boxers, kicking them off so he was standing there completely naked in front of this near stranger, feeling a little awkward, but to his surprise, turned on by the attention focussed on him. 

Jack gasped as the last of Daniel's clothes were removed, revealing a shaved groin. Had it been shaved the other night? Surely he would have noticed? He couldn't remember, his brain was fogged with lust. Before he could stop himself, he moved forward to take Daniel's cock in his hand. So long and smooth, so beautiful. Daniel's erection, partially wilted from his embarrassment at stripping under such close scrutiny, immediately hardened in Jack's warm palm, Jack's other hand moving to cup and fondle his balls gently. Daniel groaned as his eyes fluttered shut. Jack fell to his knees and buried his face in Daniel's crotch, inhaling his scent, mouthing his balls, tasting the pre-cum already forming at the tip of Daniel's dick. 

But no - he had other plans for the night. Pulling himself together, he abandoned Daniel's gorgeous cock, pulling away from his prize. A couple of deep breaths and he was in control again. The same could not be said for Daniel, who was unconsciously trying to follow Jack's retreating mouth with his straining cock, making small whimpering sounds.

"Shhh," whispered Jack, "all in good time." 

He got up and shed his clothes in record time and headed towards the dresser. There, he took something out of one of the drawers and walked back towards Daniel. Daniel squinted in the dim light to make out what was in his hands. When Jack held them up to him, Daniel's breath hitched and his heart started pounding. 

"As you're not pressing charges, I liberated these from the station," he whispered. "Will you wear them?"

"I don't..."

"For me," prompted Jack's whisper again.

Daniel couldn't take his gaze off the items Jack had retrieved; the leather manacles that had bound him to the scaffolding the night Jack had rescued him. 

Daniel shuddered with excitement. Somehow, in this man's presence, the memories of that night held no sway. It was foolish; he barely knew Jack, had no basis on which to trust him, yet he did. And as those fierce eyes bore into him, all he wanted to do was whatever Jack asked of him.

Daniel's nod was barely perceptible, but it was enough. Jack's breath was coming heavily, his dick impossibly hard. He walked around behind Daniel and gently pressed his fingers into the small of Daniel's back. "Put your hands here," he said softly. As Daniel obeyed, Jack fastened his hands in the restraints.

Making another side trip to the drawer, Jack returned to his position facing Daniel. Daniel's eyes widened as Jack held up a further item; a leather cock ring. The twitch of Daniel's dick was the only answer Jack needed this time. Reaching down, he fastened it around the base of Daniel's cock, unable to resist stroking Daniel a little while his hand was there. Daniel's neck arched backwards in appreciation.

"On your knees," Jack managed to say past his pounding heart. Daniel obeyed silently, shifting his knees a little apart for better balance with his hands tied behind his back. Then he turned his face up to look into Jack's eyes, and licked his lips. 

As Jack looked down over that pale expanse of skin, that silken hair and blue eyes, just as in his fantasies, he fought a sudden overwhelming urge to come right there and then. Gradually, he got himself under control again, and placed the tip of his dick at Daniel's slightly open mouth. "Suck," he commanded.

Daniel's lips parted and moisture engulfed him. Jack watched almost dreamily, stroking his fingers gently through Daniel's mane of hair, as Daniel's mouth worked magic with his dick - sucking, licking, circling the tip, nibbling gently along the length. Jack had to work hard to stop himself from thrusting into that talented mouth. Without use of his hands, Daniel would be unable to control penetration to manageable levels. The thought was thrilling - Daniel was completely exposed to him.

Daniel groaned around Jack's dick. It had been so long since he had had this taste in his mouth, he couldn't get enough. He wanted to stroke his own aching dick, but his hands were bound and his cock in any event restrained with the cock ring. His only focus therefore was on the hard flesh filling his mouth, trying to take it as far in as he could. He could tell Jack was holding back for his safety. Suddenly, he didn't want him to. He pulled back just long enough to say, "Fuck my mouth, Jack."

Jack didn't need telling twice. He grabbed Daniel's head and started thrusting his hips into the willing receptacle. It didn't take long before he felt that build-up of pressure that signalled impending orgasm. He managed to withdraw just at the last moment, holding his cock in his fist as he sprayed streams of come all over Daniel's face. The force of Jack's orgasm all but brought him to his knees, gasping for breath. 

Cupping Daniel's head in his palms, he gently massaged his come into Daniel's upturned face - over those ecstatically closed eyelids, into his beautiful high cheekbones, and down to those full lips, which had so recently enclosed his dick. Daniel's tongue came out to lick at Jack's thumbs as they reached his mouth, and Jack fed him the last remaining drops of come. 

Jack drew Daniel to his feet and pulled him into his arms, kissing him passionately, tasting himself on Daniel's tongue. Daniel returned the kiss with equal passion - something was beginning between them, but there was no name for it yet.

Jack's hands felt their way down to the round globes of Daniel's ass, stroking and squeezing. He stilled Daniel as he tried to hump his thigh, moving his groin out of reach. Daniel groaned. "Jack, please. Dying here."

"Shhh," whispered Jack. "Don't worry, Danny, I'll take care of you." 

Daniel stiffened for just a moment. Nobody called him Danny, it usually irritated him - but somehow, he liked the sound of it on Jack's tongue. 

Jack did not seem to have noticed his hesitation - or perhaps he had noticed, but decided from Daniel's body language that the issue was resolved, and he continued, "Let's move this to the bed." As Daniel turned around, Jack caught at his arms. "Wait, we'll need to take these off," he said, unfastening the manacles with some regret. 

He then gave Daniel a quick smack on the buttocks to encourage him on his way, producing a snorted giggle from his partner. Daniel shook out his newly liberated arms, then bounded the remaining couple of paces to the bed and threw himself on it with a smothered "oomph" into the pillows. He turned on his back and waited for Jack to join him, spreading his legs sluttishly as he gave a mock "come hither" look to Jack, running a finger up the length of his hard cock above the leather cock ring.

All Jack could do was to thank God he had just come - or he would not be able to vouch for what the sight might do to him in the premature ejaculation area. As it was, his so recently spent cock was making a valiant attempt to revive so it could join in the fun on the bed. "Hey, no touchee," he said. "That's for me. So spanking does it for you, huh?" he leered, waggling his eyebrows threateningly, producing another giggle from Daniel. God, he loved that sound - he enjoyed it almost as much as the wanton noises Daniel had produced while sucking his dick - more of which he intended to extract in the very near future. "Well, too bad. I have other uses in mind for your ass tonight. Hands and knees. No, wait - elbows and knees."

That sobered Daniel up fast. He scrambled to assume the position Jack desired, resting his forehead on the pillows and raising his ass in the air. The bed dipped as Jack climbed on behind him. Daniel's heart pounded, putting himself completely in Jack's hands, waiting for whatever he might do. After a moment, he felt feather light caresses on his ass, then the wet touch of a tongue. His ass cheeks were parted, and the tongue moved to his opening, licking gently. Gentle licks were followed by cool air blown from Jack's mouth. Lick, blow, lick, blow, 'till Daniel's entrance was clenching with anticipation, and Daniel was trembling with frustration at the gentle tease. 

"Jaaaa... ungh." 

Jack had played Daniel expertly, waiting for the precise moment when he was driven to call for more to stab his tongue as hard as he could into Daniel's entrance. He soon had Daniel squirming with desire as he licked, sucked and tongue-fucked Daniel's opening. He tugged gently at Daniel's balls, bound tight with his dick by the leather cock ring, bringing them more easily into reach through his legs, and bathing each of them with his tongue. 

"Wanna fuck you," growled Jack. He couldn't believe he was ready again so soon, but this man was doing something to him, driving him crazy with desire as he opened himself to Jack completely.

Daniel nodded frantically into the pillows. 

Jack had left condoms and lube within easy reach, and had soon readied himself. Daniel had already been slightly loosened by his tongue, so he lubed up two fingers and worked them inside him, rubbing them against Daniel's prostate, producing whimpers of need from Daniel, who pushed back, fucking himself on Jack's fingers. 

"Christ," Jack breathed, entranced by the sight. He withdrew his fingers, and replaced them with his cock, pushing in slowly but steadily until he was balls deep in that incredible ass. He fucked Daniel with deep strokes, grinding his hips with each thrust, massaging Daniel's prostate. An attempt by Daniel to reach down to his cock was swatted away by Jack. Daniel's whimpers became desperate cries, urging Jack to go faster, but Jack refused, continuing his relentless grinding fuck, until they were both covered with sweat. Finally, he reached around to release Daniel from the cock ring and pumped his dick in his fist. It took only moments before Daniel was coming violently, spasming again and again. A few hard thrusts and Jack was following him, emptying himself inside Daniel. They both collapsed, then Jack rolled to his side, pulling Daniel with him, spooning up against him, nuzzling into his hair. Eventually, Jack pulled out, dispensing of the condom safely. He got up and went to the bathroom, wetting a cloth with warm water and bringing it back to the bedroom. He paused a moment at the entrance, looking at the beautiful figure of Daniel sprawled naked on the bed, already beginning to doze off. He sighed, but knew what he had to do.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and started to wipe Daniel's face and chest gently, removing the dried come. Daniel smiled up at him lazily and, when Jack was done, rolled onto his stomach, closing his eyes. 

"You're very welcome to stay the night," said Jack. 

Daniel nodded, snuffling further into the pillows. 

"The guest room's all made up." 

He had always felt pleased with this approach to removing sex partners from his bed - this way, he was able to get them out without feeling any accompanying guilt about throwing them out into the cold night. He could be civil - offering overnight accommodation, without being too welcoming. People usually got the message.

Daniel got the message alright. His cheeks burned. The humiliation of the frat boys' "prank" was nothing to what he felt now. And this time, he had brought it all on himself. He had never been that submissive in bed before. Never done the things he had allowed Jack to do to him that night. Never. But it had been so thrilling; Jack's voice and hands manipulating him - all he had wanted to do was obey. So he had let Jack use him however he wanted - and now he was politely being shown the door. He had acted exactly like the hooker Jack had first mistaken him for. All that was missing was money on the dressing table. A slightly hysterical part of him wanted to ask for it.

Jack relentlessly squashed the part of himself that wanted to retract his words. He hated seeing the look that passed across Daniel's face. And even worse, seeing all emotion close off as Daniel withdrew. He wanted to pull Daniel back into bed with him, to snuggle against him all night. But he couldn't. He didn't do relationships, and it was best to make that clear right from the start. Breakfasts could be a bitch if people were at cross-purposes. So he said nothing as Daniel got up and dressed in silence. 

As Daniel made his way to the bedroom door, Jack said, "Guest room's first door to the left." But Daniel turned right, clearly heading for the front door. Crap. He should have known that Daniel would take that option, that Daniel was not the sort of person who would accept the deal. He scrambled into a pair of boxer shorts and trailed him to the front door.

"Daniel..." he began.

Daniel turned, his face expressionless. But Jack didn't know what to say to keep him there. After a moment, Daniel turned around again and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

***

Daniel wouldn't take his calls, wouldn't return any of his messages. Dammit! But he didn't know what else he could have done. No relationships. Not since Sara and Charlie... since the accident. Just fucks. But he wanted to see Daniel again. Wanted it desperately. He didn't know why, it wasn't as though they had done anything but make lo... fuck. But there was something about Daniel that demanded a closer look. Jack had checked and Daniel was whom he claimed to be - he was no empty-headed beauty, there was a serious intellect behind those blue eyes. He was clearly strong-willed, getting past the front desk to meet him in the first place, and yet he had been so wonderfully submissive in bed. And he was incredibly stubborn - demonstrating the same kind of bullheadedness in refusing to see Jack now as he had in originally insisting to see him, using the excuse of returning his coat.

His coat... Daniel had never given it back! The next message he left on Daniel's phone was a casual one, reminding him that he'd forgotten it, and asking him to drop it off at the station. He then left strict instructions at the front desk that they were to notify him immediately when the coat was returned, and detain Daniel with paperwork until he arrived. But the next day, when he returned from lunch, he found a package on his desk which had been delivered by courier. Inside was his coat. There was no accompanying message.

"Fuck!" Jack exploded, flinging the package across the room. 

"Is all well, O'Neill?" The dark figure of Teal'c appeared in the doorway.

"No it fucking well isn't," he yelled

"May I assist?" the big man asked.

Jack calmed down. "No," he said. "Thanks, but no. This is my own mess, I'll deal with it."

***

Daniel frowned with annoyance as he saw the figure at the back of the lecture theatre. There was no mistaking him - slightly silvering hair setting off that tanned face, the lean body slouching so casually against the wall. Why wouldn't Jack get the message? He didn't want to see him.

The lecture hall was as crowded as ever. Daniel was an articulate speaker, and his lectures were fascinating, the subject matter always cutting edge. There were also a fair number, both male and female, who came just for the view. There were worse things to do with one's time than to spend the hour after lunch gazing at the eye candy that was Professor Jackson.

The lecture drew to a close, and Daniel fumbled with putting away his notes as everyone filed out. Everyone, that is, except Jack. Finally, when he could no longer pretend to be tidying things away, Daniel looked up. Those smouldering eyes were fixed on him, demanding a response, although Jack had not yet said anything.

"Look," Daniel said finally, "I don't know what you want, but you can't get it from me. I'm... I'm seeing someone else." 

The lie was pathetically obvious, and Jack remained silent. Well, Daniel decided, he didn't owe Jack anything, and it looked like he had nothing to say. He would not give in to the shudders of excitement he felt at his presence. He shrugged and started to move towards the exit. Jack's hand shot out, grabbing his arm.

"I want to see you again," he said roughly.

"No. That night was a mistake. I can't do it again."

"No mistake. And you want to be with me, I can feel it - you're trembling," Jack murmured, pulling Daniel closer.

Daniel tried to pull his eyes away from Jack's, but Jack seemed to have him locked in his gaze. He was helpless to do anything but stand there, arms dangling by his sides, as Jack drew him in close and started kissing him. 

"Kiss me back," breathed Jack against his lips.

"No..." Daniel began, but got no further, as Jack took advantage of his now open mouth to dart his tongue inside and start exploring, demanding a response.

Daniel moaned and his arms went around Jack of their own volition, one around his waist, one into his hair. One of Jack's hands moved to stroke the back of Daniel's neck, the other strayed down to his ass, yanking Daniel towards him so that their groins met. Both men were getting hard, their breath becoming harsher.

"No!" said Daniel, pushing Jack away. "I'm not going to do this. I don't do mindless sex."

"Well, I don't do relationships." 

"That's too bad. We both lose."

"Look, can't we come to some sort of compromise?" said a vexed Jack, scrubbing his fingers through his hair.

"Such as...?"

"Well, I don't know. This isn't all my fault, you know? You started it; you came to see me."

"Yes, and then when you were done with me, you threw me out."

"I did not throw you out!" objected Jack. "Just the opposite - I said you were welcome to stay."

"Jack, don't play dumb. You knew perfectly well what you were doing. Well, I don't work that way. You wanted a one-night stand, you got it. Now leave me alone."

With that, Daniel grabbed his things and strode towards the door. Jack growled in frustration. He had never had this kind of trouble before - he usually got what he wanted with ease. 

"Okay, coffee," he called to Daniel's retreating back. "Why don't we go have some coffee?"

Daniel stopped and looked back over his shoulder. It was a mistake. It gave him an eyeful of the charismatic man and stopped his momentum. "Might as well turn into a pillar of salt," he muttered to himself. "Okay, I'll go for a coffee with you." But as Jack's face brightened, he added, "But no sex. We drink, we go to our separate homes. Take it or leave it."

There was a slight pause as Jack considered. "Fine," he snapped. "But in that case, you're buying."

Jack had pulled the night shift again, so he had the afternoon off. Daniel's schedule also allowed him the rest of the day free, so they had time for a protracted coffee break. Since the loss of his wife and son, Jack's social outings had been pretty well limited to game nights or barbeques with his work colleagues - he had not had the heart for anything else. He also hated having to make small talk, and had no idea what he might talk about with an academic. But Daniel turned out to be a surprisingly interesting conversationalist, seemingly knowing a little bit about everything, and interested in anything, with the exception of hockey... and Terry Pratchett.

A two hour coffee break was insufficient to remedy these vast gaping holes in Daniel's education, so coffee turned into pizza, lounging around at Jack's place, after which an attempt by Jack to renege on their "no sex" deal was firmly rebuffed by Daniel.

Jack was therefore forced to invite Daniel over the next weekend to fill in the gaps in his knowledge - and during the week after that... and the following weekend...

Hockey was easy enough; Jack taught Daniel the rules, and then with each game they watched together, was able to explain the finer points, including which team Daniel should support on any given occasion, and which referees sucked (most of them). 

The second was a little tougher, Jack finding that Daniel embraced an almost religiously held belief, commonly found in intelligent adults who have never read any high quality science fiction or fantasy; that it is all rubbish. However, he used Daniel's existing interests against him to get him reading: The linguist was delighted with the addition to his vocabulary of words such as "squernt" (the feeling upon finding that the previous occupant of the privy has used all the paper). The anthropologist was caught by the illogic of concepts such as "retrophrenology" (derived from the real world 19th century idea of phrenology, which was that character could be divined from the shape of someone's skull, the fictional practice of retrophrenology is to take a mallet to someone's skull to give them the character they desire).

Jack taught Daniel chess, and soon came to regret it. Daniel had an instinctive grasp of the game, and thrashed him soundly every time. Jack began to feel that maybe he didn't like chess so much.

Daniel wanted to know everything about Jack, about his work, his past relationships. Jack was reticent, but Daniel's gentle brand of questioning managed to draw him out. Behind the layer of sarcastic wit that often characterized Jack's conversation, Daniel found a well of warmth and feeling. Not that Jack realised he was opening up to Daniel - it was so gradual, he didn't notice.

Perusing the books on Jack's shelves one time, looking to fill some empty hours with something to read, Daniel came across a hardback copy of JRR Tolkien's "The Hobbit". Taking it off the shelf, he opened it, only to find, inside the cover, a drawing of a stick figure of a man (marked "A") thrusting a sword into a dragon (marked "B"). Daniel smiled as he read the text:

'Dear Charlie 

Dragonslaying Made Easy (see diagram for illustration) - 

1\. Obtain a sword (Tab A)  
2\. Find the Dragon (Slot B)  
3\. Insert Tab A into Slot B

Note: Step 2 should not be undertaken prior to Step 1, or things could get ugly!

Happy Birthday!

Love, Dad'

"My present to Charlie for his 11th birthday. When he was younger, he wanted to be a dragonslayer - was always having mock swordfights with his friends. When I told him about The Hobbit, he pretty well ignored most of the story; his only thought was that it'd be a cool 'quest' - killing Smaug the dragon to get Bilbo his treasure. So I thought he might eventually read the other 99% of the book." 

Daniel jumped as Jack spoke over his shoulder - he had not heard him approach. He fought to recover from his surprise; Jack had never mentioned a son before, and he had never seen him around the house, or any evidence of him, or of a wife. Probably divorced - memorabilia all kept at her place. Turning round, he saw an uncharacteristic look of pain and loss on Jack's face. He wanted to comfort him - he must miss the kid if his wife had custody. "I bet Charlie will love it," he said.

Jack's face closed off completely. "He'll never get it," he said shortly. "He died two years ago, the night before his birthday. Drunk driver crashed into us - killed my wife and son. But me - all I got was this scar on my eyebrow to remember it all by. Cosmic joke, really."

Oh god. There was nothing Daniel could say. How did you comfort a man for the loss of his wife and child? And judging by the look on Jack's face, a wife and child that had been much loved. Helplessly, he remained silent.

Sex, always explosive, returned to the relationship (although Jack continued to insist that it was NOT a relationship). However, Daniel was never made welcome afterwards in Jack's bed, and Jack would never agree to meet anywhere other than his own house - allowing Jack, in his mind, not to define their time together as "dates". Every time, Daniel swore to himself that he would not agree to see Jack again. But every time Jack phoned, he was unable to say no. 

Daniel began to wilt under Jack's demands of their non-relationship. He wanted a partner, an equal, and Jack's continued refusal was making him more and more miserable. Yet he didn't have the strength to break it off. He was smitten - he'd never fallen so hard - but he felt it was draining the life out of him. His academic studies were becoming more fraught; he was on the verge of a major breakthrough, and needed support, not this perpetual drainage of ego.

One Friday, the night before his birthday, Stephen Rayner invited him out to dinner. For the first time, Daniel cancelled on Jack. Jack had already said he would not be able to meet up that Saturday, the excuse spurious. Daniel knew the real reason; Jack was deliberately avoiding his birthday. Birthdays were things you might celebrate if you cared about each other. Time spent together on a birthday might imply some sort of feeling, some element of togetherness. It was too much - Daniel had reached breaking point. He needed to stand up for himself, remember the Daniel Jackson he used to be - strong-willed, self-reliant.

***

Jack, however, wasn't prepared to be turned down. He had wanted to be with Daniel - for sex, he reminded himself - for sex. For the first time, he went to find Daniel in his University rooms. Daniel did not answer his knocking. "Bet he's just in there sulking," Jack muttered to himself. He decided to let himself in, get the recalcitrant archaeologist to come round. The door gave way easily to his lock-picking skills, and he went in. Daniel wasn't there, although he could see what looked to be the name and address of a bar/restaurant - O'Malley's - written on a scribble pad next to the phone. Maybe that's where he'd gone, with some of his 'exciting' academic buddies.

Jack was intrigued by all the clutter lying around - not just the usual academic detritus of paper, but enough objects - works of art and what looked to Jack like pieces of rock - to fill a museum. Restlessly, he picked up one after another and examined them, but he didn't know anything about this kind of thing, and there was no Daniel here to explain any of it to him. 

Finally, knowing he was invading Daniel's privacy but unable to resist, he poked his head into Daniel's bedroom... and saw, lining one wall, the brightly coloured covers of what looked like every single book by Terry Pratchett. They were all hardbacks, battered and dog-eared. Beginning to be suspicious, he examined one, then another, then another, checking the printing dates. They were all first printings of the first editions. He was a detective by profession, but it hardly took a genius to work out that Daniel had been a Pratchett fan long before they had met. 

He looked further. No academic works in the bedroom. The shelves were graced by Asimov, Heinlein, Herbert, Clarke - the Grand Masters all present and correct. Newer names also filled the shelves to overflowing - Iain M Banks, Robert Jordan, Simon Green, Peter Hamilton... the list went on. The man was clearly a sci fi buff.

Jack couldn't help smiling to himself. He'd been suckered. Well and truly. And he thought he'd been in control of this thing all along. Despite himself, there was a glow of pleasure at Daniel's dissembling. He knew exactly what it meant. Daniel had been trailing breadcrumbs to bring Jack back to him. He wouldn't be surprised to find that Daniel was on the University chess team... but no, he corrected himself. If he had been an expert, he would have taken care to lose comprehensively to him. 

Jack knew what he had been doing to Daniel - despite appearances, he was not blind. Daniel wanted more, and Jack had been making him increasingly unhappy by his refusal to give it. And as for Jack - he was finding it harder and harder to ignore the small voice in the back of his mind, which told him he was being an idiot turfing Daniel out each night they spent together. He didn't want Daniel to stay... but he didn't want him to go, either. And Daniel always refused to accept the offer of the spare room. Jack shook his head sadly. He would have to end it - for both their sakes. He firmly shut his eyes to the illogicality of breaking up with Daniel while at the same time steadfastly claiming they were not together.

Jack put the books back on the shelves and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

Having decided he should cool things off with Daniel, just to be contrary, he decided to stop by O'Malley's. Maybe he could persuade Daniel to come round to his place when he'd finished dinner with his cronies. He was sure that screwing him through the mattress would get things straight in his mind again.

***

At dinner in O'Malley's, Daniel was pouring his heart out to Stephen about his relationship, or lack thereof, with Jack. To Daniel's frustration, Stephen steadfastly refused to give him the advice he wanted; that Jack was using him and he needed to break up with him. 

Stephen insisted that Daniel needed to make the decision himself, that he didn't need someone else to give him the strength to do what was right for him. 

They both knew what Daniel had been doing; he'd wanted somebody else to take responsibility for the decision, so that he could blame someone else for leaving Jack. It wasn't fair to Stephen to ask that of him. Daniel didn't even realize he was weeping until Stephen raised his hand and gently stroked a tear from his cheek. 

***

Despite the dim lighting, Jack spotted Daniel the instant he entered O'Malley's - it was like some magnet marked him on his internal compass, despite the fact that Daniel was mostly turned away from him, so he could see only part of his profile. He could see his companion more clearly... and did not like what he saw. This was not some crusty academic; the guy was about 30 years old, darkly good-looking... and obviously totally enraptured by Daniel. Jack frowned and started to make his way towards the two of them when Daniel's 'friend' reached out and ran his thumb gently over Daniel's cheekbone. The hand then slipped to the back of Daniel's neck as the man leaned forward to kiss him on the lips. 

Rage like he had never felt before boiled up in Jack - he felt sick from it. He wanted to smash the guy's face into the table. He stalked over to the table and glowered at Daniel, completely ignoring his dinner partner. What he saw made him falter. Daniel was... crying? That caress from the man's thumb had evidently been wiping a tear away. But that still didn't explain the kiss. Jack's expression hardened again.

"Jack!" Daniel gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"More like, what are *you* doing here?" Jack ground out.

"I... Jack, this is a colleague of mine, Stephen Rayner."

"Colleague? Interesting. You usually go around kissing your colleagues?" 

Daniel looked confused for a moment, then rallied. "Jack, this is none of your business."

"Well, I'm making it my business. You're coming with me. Now."

"What? No! I'm with Stephen tonight."

"No, you're not. Now are you going to come quietly, or am I going to have to arrest you?"

"Arrest me!" Daniel squeaked. "On what charge?"

"Resisting arrest," Jack barked. "Now get your stuff together, and let's go. I'll wait for you outside." Turning to Daniel's companion, he said, "Nice meeting you, Mr Rayner." Then he did an about face and strode out of the restaurant, fuming. 

***

Daniel turned to Stephen and began, "I...." 

"Go," said Stephen. "He needs you."

"No he doesn't," said Daniel despondently, "He just doesn't want anyone else to have me."

"I think you're wrong," contradicted Stephen, gently. "He's besotted - just in denial."

"Yeah, not just a river in Egypt," Daniel resorted to the feeble old joke, as he started fumbling for his wallet. 

Stephen took hold of his hand to stop him. "It's on me tonight. You can take me out another time. You'd better go before the jealous lover comes in and makes another scene." 

"Thanks, Stephen. I'm so sorry about this."

"Don't be." Then Stephen smirked, "Besides, he's hot. If he weren't already taken by you, I'd be running out of this place after him! So who am I to pass judgement?"

Daniel gave him a small smile, then got up, trying to ready himself to face this suddenly unpredictable Jack. 

***

Outside, Jack was in hell, desperately trying, and failing, to calm down. His anger was all mixed up with confusion. Daniel had always been free to do whatever he wanted - they weren't dating. In fact, hadn't he just decided to break it off with him? So why should he react so badly when 'whatever he wanted' included going out with someone else? Why should he have been thrown into such a panic at the thought that Daniel might leave him?

He knew the answer; he needed Daniel, couldn't bear the thought of life without him. He cursed himself. Stupid. Stupid! He lived for seeing Daniel's face - scrunched up in concentration over a chess game, animated in conversation, guileless as he manipulated Jack with his pretence of ignorance, and blissful in bed as Jack entered his body, owning him.

Finally, Daniel joined him outside the restaurant. Neither of them said a word as Jack drove them back to his place. 

The minute they were through the door, Jack fastened his lips on Daniel's neck, grabbing him by his ass and back, pulling him as close to his body as he could. 

Daniel groaned as Jack started sucking, tilting his head to the side to give him easier access. 

"Gonna mark you," Jack growled, biting and sucking. 

"No, don't," Daniel gasped. But he didn't do anything to stop him. Nor did he try to prevent Jack from frantically stripping the clothes off his body, even though some fabric was getting ripped along the way. 

Having managed to get Daniel naked, Jack grabbed him by the thighs just under the ass and hoisted him up. "Wrap your legs around me," he commanded. 

The minute Daniel had done as he was told, Jack swung him round and carried him over to the dining room table. Unfortunately, the table was tidy, so he was unable to follow narrative convention and dramatically sweep everything off its surface, but fortunately, the look in Daniel's eyes made up for that. They were already hazy with lust, and he was helplessly grinding his groin into Jack, trying to get stimulation for his swiftly hardening dick. Jack bent over him as he placed his back on the table, his ass at the edge ready to be plundered, and kissed him. The kiss went on and on, both men hanging on to each other's lips for dear life.

Finally, Jack pulled away and fished out a pocket tube of lube and a condom - he had gone out prepared for sex. He undid his jeans, slapped a condom and lube on his straining dick, and without ceremony, plunged straight into Daniel. Daniel cried out with shock and pain as Jack pushed on into him, not giving him time to adjust. However, once fully inside, Jack became a little less frantic.

"Sorry," he said. "Sorry - needed to have you."

"S'okay," gasped Daniel. "Just gimme a moment." 

While waiting for Daniel to adjust, Jack made constructive use of his time, licking Daniel's nipples, nibbling and sucking them until Daniel was squirming with pleasure. Finally, when he knew Daniel was ready, he started thrusting - deeply, deliberately, making Daniel arch with pleasure. But Jack needed more - he started moving faster, harder, accompanied by Daniel's cries of encouragement. And it still wasn't enough - the urge in Jack was harsh, primitive. He wanted to fuck Daniel senseless, make him know who owned him. Suddenly, he leaned forward, hooking his arms under Daniel's armpits and grabbing his shoulders from behind, forcing Daniel's knees up towards his chest. He locked his eyes onto Daniel's, and hammered his dick inside him, pounding away faster and faster, until Daniel closed his eyes in ecstasy and came, shuddering, pulling Jack over the edge with him into blackness. 

***

"Jack?"

"Hnnngh."

"Jack, gerroff."

"Wha..?"

"Jack, you're heavy, and your dining room table isn't exactly known for its cushiony qualities."

"Oh." Crap - that wasn't the plan. It was Daniel who was supposed to pass out, not himself. Jack stood up, a little stiff from the awkward position. "Sorry. Um... I'm gonna hop in the shower quickly. Why don't you fix yourself a drink?" 

The last thing Daniel wanted to do was to talk to Jack. He could tell that Jack was in the mood to pry, and he couldn't take it... not tonight. He had to get away. "I'm kinda tired, Jack. I think I'll head on home. I've got..."

"Or better still, why don't you shower with me?" interrupted Jack, refusing to hear him. "C'mon. I'll do your back if you do mine."

"Jack, I..."

"Good. You can get started - I've got a few more clothes to take off than you."

"A few? Try all. You dressed, me naked."

"Yeah," Jack breathed, pulling Daniel up from the table. "I'd noticed. Good look on you, by the way."

Daniel gave in. Jack, threatened by what he thought he'd seen, was pulling an alpha male thing. It was easiest to give him what he wanted - he'd be back to normal tomorrow once his ego had been petted.

***

The shower was a sensual affair, Jack insisting on washing every part of Daniel, stimulating him until he was quivering with desire, and then bringing him off slowly with a hand lubricated by conditioner. After the shower, to Daniel's surprise, Jack still didn't allow him to get dressed - he wanted to give him a massage. This was new - he didn't think Jack had paid him this much attention the whole time they'd been together... or not together... whatever.

Jack spread a large, soft towel on his bed, and got Daniel to lie on it on his stomach. Surprising Daniel still further, it turned out he had massage oil - something faintly spicy that he couldn't identify. Jack's strong, skilful hands soon had Daniel in a warm, relaxed haze. He felt his whole body had turned into a limp noodle - 'throw me at a wall and I'll stick', he thought to himself. 

"Okay," Jack slapped Daniel's ass. "Turn over. Time to do your front." 

Making small complaining sounds at being forced to move at all, Daniel did as he was told, lying on his back. Positioning himself with his knees on either side of Daniel's waist, Jack leaned forward, looking deeply into Daniel's eyes.

"And now," he said, "you're going to tell me why you were crying earlier tonight."

Okay, goodbye noodle. Daniel instantly turned his head, avoiding Jack's gaze. "Nothing," he said. "It's complicated." 

"Well, is it nothing or is it complicated? You can't have both. And who the fuck is Stephen and why were you letting him stick his tongue down your throat?"

Daniel would rather die than tell the truth - that it was Jack who had been the topic of conversation - so he side-stepped, giving himself time to think of what to say. "There was no tongue involved, and you know it!" he exclaimed. "It was just a... a comfort kiss. And what business is it of yours anyway?" he rallied. "It's not as though you ever wanna go out with me."

"Well... maybe we might rethink that," Jack said, cautiously. 

"We might?" asked Daniel, hesitantly.

"Perhaps... maybe. I don't know. Do you want to?"

"I guess. Why? Do you want to?" 

'Okay', Jack thought, 'this is getting really lame. What are we, teenagers?' "Yes, Daniel. I want to. I want you in my life."

"Oh." And the sweetest expression Jack had ever seen spread over Daniel's face; a little, shy smile, together with a slight...

"Daniel, are you blushing?"

"No," he said, promptly going flaming red. 

Jack grinned, pleased as punch at Daniel's reaction. "Ooookay. Well then, now we've established I have a proprietary interest in you, you're not allowed to cry on anyone's shoulder but mine." So saying, he climbed off Daniel and lay down beside him, signalling to Daniel to lay his head on said shoulder. 

"So what's wrong? Tell me what I can do to help." 

Daniel, bathing in the warm glow of Jack's affection, had forgotten that he still hadn't answered his question. Time to get creative. "Really, Jack, it's a long story. You wouldn't be interested - it's about work stuff." In a way, that was true enough - that had been the first topic of conversation at dinner before they'd moved on to their respective love lives.

"Your work? That's what reduced you to tears? People still using that Budgie fellow to translate those Egyptian wall-paintings?"

"They're hieroglyphs, as you well know. And if you're gonna make fun, then I don't want your bony shoulder after all," said Daniel. So much for this new, sensitive Jack. "This is my life, my career we're talking about here. Just because I don't go around trying to rid the world of criminals doesn't mean that what I do isn't important. Look, it really is late now. I have to go." So saying, he attempted to get up and scramble out of bed."

"Whoa, where are you going?" said Jack, fighting to keep a suddenly not so pliant Daniel in his arms. "Look, Daniel, I'm sorry - I know I can be a dick sometimes, but you don't need be so sensitive about it. Come and settle back down."

"No really, Jack. For once, I don't want to be making my way across town at two in the morning. We can meet up again tomorrow."

"What?" Jack asked. "Why do you need to make your way across town? I thought we agreed you were gonna stay with me. You going back on your word so soon?" God, had he really managed to fuck it up so quickly? 'Me and my big mouth', Jack berated himself.

"We did? I am?" asked a confused Daniel. "You mean you want me to stay the night?"

"Well, I thought that was understood as part of the whole 'dating' thing." Suddenly worried, Jack added, "Wasn't it?"

"Well, I... I wasn't sure. We said 'date', not 'sleep over'."

"Good, then. That's settled." Jack wasn't prepared to hear any other interpretation of their arrangements, and pulled Daniel back down into a cuddle, hooking a leg over his thigh for good measure. Hmmmm. He was going to be able to get used to this very quickly. He might as well admit it - 'hook, line and sinker' was the expression that came to mind. "Now you'll be able to tell me all about it in the morning."


End file.
